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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24761614">An HR Nightmare</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomulusandRemus/pseuds/RomulusandRemus'>RomulusandRemus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Canonical Character Death, Consensual Slut Shaming, Dirty Talk, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Jealousy, M/M, Martin briefly mentions a past sexual partner who was kinda a dick but nothing bad really happens, Mentions of dissociation, Past Sexual Assault, Roleplay, Sexually Degrading Language, Victim Blaming, aka mention of martin's mom, canon-typical stalking, like jon thinks martin is being harassed, mention of compulsive cleaning post-stalking, via martin's mother</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:40:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,321</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24761614</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomulusandRemus/pseuds/RomulusandRemus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim needs a boyfriend to ward off a young girl's advances, Martin owes Tim a favor, and Jon wants to know why he hates Tim all the sudden.</p><p>or</p><p>Jon is jealous</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>BUT NOT ROMANTICALLY - Relationship, Endgame jonmartin, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>160</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>295</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>haven't written a fic in a while, feel free to leave any critiques in the comments. this is going to be a bit lengthy, i think</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For the first time in a long while, Tim was not at fault for the latest workplace disaster. Unsurprising, however, Martin was.</p><p>“Shit shit shit shit shit.” Martin cursed under his breath, hastily trying to dry off a century-old statement with a tea towel. “Tim, what do I do? Jon’s going to kill me!”</p><p>“Hey, what the boss doesn’t know won’t kill him. I’ll be your alibi, go dispose of the evidence.” Tim said to a relieved Martin.</p><p>“Thanks, Tim. I owe you one!” Martin replied, exiting without waiting for a response.</p><p>True to his word, Tim vouched for Martin’s innocence, swearing he had no clue as to that particular old statement’s whereabouts. Suspicious, but much too tired to argue, Jon opted to take Tim’s word on the matter.</p><p>Five months later, Tim still had yet to call in his favor. And after Jane Prentiss’ attack, Martin had almost forgotten about the ruined statement, much too preoccupied with fear. Tim, however, seemed to have other priorities.</p><p>“I’m cashing in that favour, Blackwood,” Tim said, beelining straight to Martin’s colour coded desk at 7:30 in the morning.</p><p>“What fav- oh, right. What is it?” Martin asked, pushing his overfilled binder aside.</p><p>“I need a boyfriend,” Tim explained.</p><p>“Me too, but I’m not letting you fuck me as a favour.” Martin said, tersely.</p><p>“No! I just need you to pretend to be my boyfriend. One of the college kids we let use the library has a huge crush on me. Rosie told me she’s been trying to follow me home.” Tim said with a shudder.</p><p>“So tell her you’re not interested, Tim,” Martin suggested, turning his attention back to his work.</p><p>“Don’t you think I’ve tried that? C’mon Martin, you know I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t important.” Tim pleaded. “Besides, you owe me.”</p><p>“Fine. What’d you need me to do?” Martin relented.</p><p>“First, and I think you’ll like this one, I need you to move in with me- just for a little bit. Lucky for you, my flat is way nicer than living in the archives. Also, I need you to really sell the idea that we’re serious about each other. No need to keep hiding your blinding lust for me.” Tim teased, just to see Martin swat at him. “Speaking of blinding lust, everyone knows you’ve got a crush on Jon the size of London, so please try to tone down the flirting, Martin.”</p><p>“Flirting? I do not- and even if I did, which I don’t, he doesn’t even notice me. I could be naked, ass up on his desk and he wouldn’t bat an eye.” Martin complained.</p><p>“Is it too late to change my favour? Because I want to change it to what you just said. Oooh, my birthday’s coming up! Can my present be fucking you, ass up on Jon’s desk?” Tim suggested, loud enough to cause an echo across the institute. An audible crash came from Jon’s office, followed by shuffling and a door being swung open, revealing a stoic, but furiously blushing Jon.</p><p>“Tim, can I speak to you in my office?” Jon asked, glaring at a smirking Tim.</p><p>“Finally, the boss likes one of my suggestions. Fingers crossed he says yes.” Tim joked, kissing the top of Martin’s head while he hid his face in his hands and groaned, watching through his fingers as Tim strutted into Jon’s office.</p><p> </p><p>There’s a completely non-creepy reason why Martin knows that by pressing his ear to a certain vent in the men’s room, he can hear into Jon’s office relatively well. But, Martin’s much too busy praying that Tim doesn’t get fired to justify his actions.</p><p>“... I mean, have you seen Martin? How you go a whole day without grabbing a handful of that man’s arse is a mystery to me.” Tim remarked.</p><p>“It’s because I respect Mr. Blackwood and his hard work-” Jon began, cut off by Tim’s harsh laugh.</p><p>“Is that why you’re always demeaning him? Calling him a useless idiot every time he deigns to breathe? You know Martin listens back to all the tapes right? If you could see his face when he hears the names you call him…” Tim said, disapprovingly.</p><p>“Right. Well, can you call Martin in next? I’d very much like to hear his input on all this.” Jon remarked, sounding vaguely guilty.</p><p>“No need.” Martin was startled by a loud knocking noise on the other side of the vent. “Alright, Peeping Tom, daddy’s all done here,” Tim called.</p><p>“Tim, would you-! Ugh, coming.” Martin replied, choosing to ignore Tim’s tease about Martin not being allowed to come without him.</p><p> </p><p>Walking into Jon’s office without tea was weird, but sitting down directly in front of Jon’s desk shortly after Tim’s lewd suggestion of what activities to do on the said desk was beyond mortifying.</p><p>“Was what Tim said true?” Jon asked Martin, similar to how a doctor delivers bad news to a next-of-kin.</p><p>“Well, what did Tim say?” Martin deflected, looking away from Jon’s unimpressed expression.</p><p>“Okay, let’s start with this- do you feel at all uncomfortable or afraid of any words or actions Tim displays towards you?” Jon asked, pen raised over a half-filled out form in front of him.</p><p>“No?” Martin supplied, confused at Jon’s solemn tone.</p><p>“Martin, you can tell me the truth. Tim won’t be informed of any information you disclose to me here.” Jon said, in what is the closest thing to soothing Martin thinks Jon is capable of.</p><p>“First of all, Tim is almost certainly listening through the vents-” Martin started.</p><p>“Am not! Fuck. Shit...Timothy, you sexy idiot, you’ve done it again.” Tim reprimanded himself, voice tinny from the metal echo of the vent.</p><p>“Secondly, Tim is as much of a threat to me as Sasha is. And while I would appreciate a small respite from his many attempts at publicly embarrassing me…” Martin relented.</p><p>“It’s my kink, baby!” Tim cried.</p><p>“I wouldn’t be dating him if I didn’t find his constant flirting at least a little flattering,” Martin confessed, not even flinching at his own first admission that he can no longer back out of his promise to Tim.</p><p>“I’m sorry, what?” Jon squawked. “Dating- when did that happen?”</p><p>“Maybe you should spend less time insulting your assistants and more time getting to know us outside of how we can be of use to you,” Tim said, leaning in the door frame instead of communicating through the vents. “Now, if you’ll excuse us…” Tim gestured for Martin to follow him out of the office, pretending to not hear Jon’s protests over still needing to ask additional questions.</p><p> </p><p>The rest of the day went off without a hitch, other than a small spat Martin and Tim had over Martin continuing to serve Jon tea.</p><p>“It’s tea, Tim! I give everyone tea.” Martin argued, exasperated.</p><p>“We both know this has nothing to do with the tea, Martin.” Tim scoffed.</p><p>“So, I can serve him tea then?” Martin asked.</p><p>“Sure. Fine. Do whatever you want, Martin.” Tim said, not even trying to seem convincing.</p><p>“Oh, don’t be like that.” Martin fussed, smiling despite himself. Tim mirrored his smile and then both fell into a fit of laughter.</p><p>Jon didn’t end up getting his tea.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t until after work, as Tim helped Martin pack up his stuff in the archives safe room, that Martin gathered up enough courage to ask Tim something that’d been on his mind all day.</p><p>“What’d you mean about it not being about the tea?” Martin asked, curious.</p><p>“Look, Martin, you show your love through action. Caring for others is your way of expressing affection. And I’d rather not have you declaring your love for Jon while we’re a thing. It’s not an ownership issue and I know you can’t help how you feel, but… It just feels bad. Like people are going to see that you’re still head over heels for someone else and think ‘Oh, what’s wrong with Tim? Why isn’t he enough? What’s wrong with him? Poor guy, can’t even-’” Tim is stopped by a sudden embrace from Martin.</p><p>“Thank you for telling me, Tim. I- I’ll stop, but I’d like to at least tell Jon I won’t be bringing around tea anymore if that’s alright with you.” Martin said, throwing his duffel bag over his shoulder.</p><p>“That’s fine. Thanks, Martin.” Tim replied, picking up some tape recorders for Martin’s poetry.</p><p> </p><p>“Be gentle… I’ve never done this before.” Tim whispered, sprawled across his bed in Spiderman pajamas.<br/>

</p>
<p>“Shut up, Tim. I haven’t slept in a proper bed in a while, please let me enjoy this,” Martin whined, half-muffled by a pillow.</p><p>“Fine, but when my morning wood pokes your eye out, that’s on you,” Tim complained, grumpily.</p><p>“Tim, I could suck you off once every hour tonight and you’d still wake up with an erection.”</p><p>“Prove it.”</p><p>“Goodnight, Tim!”</p><p> </p><p>Tim was smugger than usual when he woke up the next morning with a persistent boner.</p><p>“I get it, Tim. You’re horny. If you give me just ten more minutes of sleep without pawing at me, I promise I’ll use my mouth.”</p><p>Martin had never seen Tim as behaved as he was in those following minutes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The reason I have to change this fics rating</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tim and Martin have fun... Jon does not.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Alright,” Tim began, wriggling out of his pajama bottoms. “Anything I need to know before we start? Likes, dislikes, etcetera?”</p><p>“Hm, nothing out of the ordinary, I don’t think,” Martin replied, helping Tim out of his pants. “Don’t force my head down, pulling hair is fine but not too hard, don’t be cruel to me- though I’m okay with a little sexual degrading that doesn’t go too far… That’s it, pretty much.”</p><p>“Wow, I didn’t expect you to be sure of yourself in bed. Been around the block quite a bit, haven’t you?” Tim teased, reclining against his bed’s headboard, fully nude from the waist down.</p><p>“Not really. It’s just that the few times I have been with someone have been so god awful that I can use them as a metric for what I’m into.” Martin confessed, shrugging as he lowered his mouth over the tip of Tim’s cock.</p><p>“That- ah, is unfortunate, you- shit! You deserve better, Martin. If you need to stop or slow down just let me- fuck, you’re so good for me.” Tim panted, watching as Martin’s pink lips swallowed him with a somewhat sloppy suction.</p><p>Martin giggled, mouth pulling off of Tim’s cock, still jerking him off with a tight grip before responding, “It’s really sweet that you’re concerned about me, Tim. I appreciate it, I really do, but please pull my hair.” </p><p>Tim felt his cock pulse at Martin’s words, lacing his fingers through Martin’s light ginger curls and pulling, causing Martin’s mouth to gape open in pleasure, allowing Tim to slowly guide himself between Martin’s plump lips. Tim gently bucked up into Martin’s mouth, carefully watching for any signs of discomfort. After finding none, he tried again with a less controlled thrust, looking down at Martin’s doe-eyed focused gaze on the task at hand. Groaning at the single-minded nature that Martin took to blow him, Tim started lowering Martin’s head down tenderly, letting Martin decide whether to wave off his grasp or let Tim maneuver him however Tim pleased. </p><p>Martin let Tim control his movements, trusting Tim to not do anything that would hurt him. Tim shuddered when he felt the tip of his penis hit the back of Martin’s throat, the warm pressure surrounding him as Martin made a wet gurgling noise that shouldn’t have been as hot as it was. Eventually, Martin was able to completely envelop Tim’s cock, face squished against Tim’s pubes, tickling his nose and making breathing difficult. Still, Martin wasn’t panicking, he was still able to breathe, and the musty sweat of Tim’s pelvis felt… grounding. Martin had long since been touching himself and the burning arousal that spread all around his body had yet to slow at Tim’s filthy muttering as he nudged himself in and out of Martin’s throat until he stilled and gripped Martin’s hair firmly in a way that finally satiated the deep hunger Martin felt between his thighs.</p><p>“Fuck, what a good boy. So beautiful when he lets me take what I need. God, Martin, do you want me to cum inside or on your face?” Tim asked, voice strangled between his gritted teeth as he reluctantly let go of Martin’s hair. Martin answered with a dazed moan, grabbing Tim’s hips and driving him with short thrusts into his mouth as Tim tangled his fingers back in Martin’s hair and came, watching Martin try to maintain eye contact with him despite the instinctual tears and discomfort that comes with deep throating. It was cute, seeing Martin sputter as he gently pulled Tim out of his mouth, making a face at the cum that dripped onto his chin.</p><p>“Did you eat pineapples recently?” Martin asked, laughing at the ridiculousness of the question as he cleaned himself off.</p><p>“Let’s just say I was optimistic about my chances this morning. I did have ten minutes to kill after all.” Tim answered, winking as he glanced at the time on his phone. “Thank god I woke us up early, we’ve still got a whole thirty minutes left. Want a round two?”</p><p>“Thirty minutes? Tim, it takes twenty minutes to get there!” Martin exclaimed, hurriedly changing into the first thing he grabbed from his duffel bag. “We don’t even have time for a shower! We’re going to smell like sex.”</p><p>“Yeah, because we did have sex,” Tim replied, changing at a much more leisurely pace.</p><p>“Yes, but I don’t want our coworkers to know that!” Martin explained, agitated by Tim’s blase demeanor towards workplace reputation.</p><p>“What if I walk in before you and announce that we both smell like sex because I cheated on you while you were in the room, so that way people don’t know you fuck,” Tim suggested, purposefully riling Martin up.</p><p>“What? No! Stop distracting me, we need to hurry.” Martin responded, dragging Tim into the bathroom to freshen up.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When Tim and Martin made it to the institute, no one really said anything to either of their faces. Though most wrinkled their noses when they came too close, smelling the cologne Martin used to disguise the sex smell and the decision Tim made to wear what he declared his ‘I got laid shirt’ all those years ago when he began working at the archives. Sometimes Martin thinks he wears it even when he didn’t get laid, just to see the disgusted looks Elias gives him. Martin would really prefer that Tim retire his sex shirt, but honestly, he was just proud that Tim put on any shirt at all. </p><p> </p><p>Though Jon had always made his dislike of Tim’s red silk button-up shirt being a designated sex shirt perfectly clear, today the outfit made him visibly upset.</p><p>“Oh for fuck’s sake, Tim! Really?” Jon blurted out, infuriated by Tim’s childish antics.</p><p>“Boss, if you’d been on the receiving end of a mouth as talented as Martin’s, you’d be bragging about it too,” Tim remarked, a sly grin only spreading as Jon’s face turned a deep scarlet. </p><p>“Tim, if you can not behave yourself appropriately in the workplace then I’m afraid I’ll have to discuss with Elias about your employment here.” Jon threatened, hoping Tim wouldn’t call his bluff.</p><p>“Don’t involve me in Tim’s sex life, Jon. I just ate.” Elias responded, startling the three men who were unaware of Elias’ presence until now. “If you want to fight for Martin’s affection please do so outside of work.”</p><p>“Fighting for Martin’s- no, I am simply trying to ensure that this remains a safe, professional environment,” Jon argued.</p><p>“I’d highly suggest you stop thinking of this institute as being ‘safe’ as soon as possible. I’d rather you not let your guard down this early on.” Elias scoffed, turning his back on the confused men.</p><p>The silence that followed was abruptly broken by Martin’s chuckling to himself. Both Jon and Tim turned to look at him for an explanation, worried Martin had finally lost it.</p><p>“Sorry, it’s just… I remember when I first started working here and someone asked Elias why he never reprimanded Tim for his dirty jokes and he-” Martin is interrupted by his own uncontrollable laughter. “He made me explain the concept of sex to him!”</p><p>“What?” Jon responded, shocked by Elias’ past boldness.</p><p>“Oh yeah, I remember that! At first, I totally bought that no one had boogied down on that vile man, but looking back on it, he was probably just trying to humiliate you into quitting.” Tim reminisced, unaware of Jon’s horrified look. “No wonder he shuts down Jon’s HR complaints, he knows he’s done some shit he doesn’t want to be brought back up. Classic Elias.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, Elias did what?” Jon repeated.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Sasha deserved better</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Goddammit I love women</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After a couple days of 'dating' with no sign of Tim's supposed stalker, Martin was beginning to question Tim's motives in their fake relationship. So, it's just Martin's luck that the first time he actually sees the girl, it's after an argument with Tim.</p><p>"Right. So, just to clarify, I can't give Jon tea because it's a betrayal to our monogamous relationship, but you can still flirt with police officers and filing clerks?" Martin asked though Tim knew better than to attempt to answer the question.</p><p>"Well, when you word it like that…" Tim mumbled.</p><p>"I'm wording it exactly as it is! If the problem said out loud paints you as a bad guy, then maybe it's not the word's fault- it's yours." Martin retorted.</p><p>"What I'm doing helps the Institute- helps bring closure to traumatized statement givers! It's not like I sleep with any of them. Honestly, it sounds like you're being just a tad insecure." Tim said, realizing his mistake the moment it left his mouth.</p><p>"Fuck you, Tim. Don't expect me home tonight." Martin replied, picking up his work and heading to the library upstairs.</p><p>"Wait, Martin-" Tim started.</p><p>"I bet it'll be quite a relief to have the flat to yourself tonight. No need to worry about your insecure boyfriend ruining your chances with those helpful clerks of yours." Martin flatly stated, glaring down Tim as he turned the corner, nearly colliding into a tall, skinny teenager who could've easily passed for a sixteen-year-old, were it not for the fact that the Magnus Institute doesn't employ minors.</p><p>The girl looked at him skeptically before asking, "You're Martin, right?".</p><p>"Yes?" Martin answered, warily.</p><p>"Oh, um, you look nothing like how I thought you'd look… Nevermind, I just wanted to let you know that some of the others here are spreading some horrible rumours about you and Tim. They keep saying things about the two of you dating and it's like… so mean. I think it's been a running joke for a while because they're so serious when they say it." The girl rambled, seemingly unused to people listening to her for this long.</p><p>"Sorry, why would me and Tim dating be a funny joke?" Martin asked, knowing the answer deep down but chasing that familiar stab of humiliation out of habit.</p><p>"Well, there's no way Tim is dating someone like you." The girl laughed, before adding, "No offense, but… you know what I mean."</p><p>And Martin just stood there, frozen. The only words available being some form of agreement and Martin would not give her the satisfaction of letting her know he thinks the same thing.</p><p>"Ms. Phillips, may I please see you in my office?" Spoke a stone-faced Elias who, once again, snuck up on his employees mid-conversation. </p><p>"Oh! Mr. Bouchard, how long have you-? Of course, right away, sir." The girl, Ms. Phillips, replied, scrambling to follow Elias.</p><p>"You're welcome." Sasha chimed, stepping out from behind the door Elias and Ms. Phillips just left through. </p><p>"Sasha? How did you know-?" Martin started, cut off by her snort.</p><p>"I figured it was about time Tim called in that favour and- don't give me that face, Tim didn't tell me you spilled water on the statement, it's just that I know when Tim's lying- so I connected that to your new relationship status that made no sense, considering your crush on Jon. And, also the fact that Zoey is known for her obsessive crushes on older men that caused HR issues in the past… it was obvious that she'd try something once you were alone." Sasha finished, looking satisfied at her deductions.</p><p>"How the hell are you not Head Archivist?" Martin asked, in awe.</p><p>"Sexism, mostly." Sasha supplied, faux-chipper in a way that suggests she knows resentment will only get her blackballed.</p><p>"Yeah… Sorry about that, by the way." Martin said, guilty.</p><p>"Martin, it's nobody's fault but Elias'. Well, Elias and whoever it is that decides my fate... and to give me minimum characterization with no backstory." Sasha complained. </p><p>"I'm sure it wasn't on purpose. Men storytellers struggle to write three-dimensional women that audiences can empathize with. At least you weren't designed to be an angry woman who's mean and violent towards the main character and whose past is only mentioned if it's used to further a man's story arc. Pretty much every woman I encounter is some version of that. Makes it hard to tell them apart." Martin said, reflecting silently.</p><p>"Yeah… What were we talking about? I have no idea what that was just then… it felt like I wasn't in control of my own words or actions. Like I was just a mouthpiece for a higher power to express their own thoughts through." Sasha explained.</p><p>"God, this place is so weird. First, Jane Prentiss attacks my flat. Then, we have conversations we don't understand… What's next?" Martin wondered out loud.</p><p>As it turned out, the mysterious disappearance of Zoey Phillips was next. After her talk with Elias, Institute cameras showed her leaving the building before promptly vanishing. When Sasha asked why not look through neighboring establishment's cameras if ours lost her trial, Elias explained that the camera didn't lose sight of her because of an inability to track her movements. She literally vanished out of thin air.</p><p>Martin wasn't an idiot, despite what Jon seemed to believe. He knew Elias was behind whatever happened to Zoey. He also knew it was better to play the fool when your boss is a powerful douchebag who seems to care about you somewhat, in his own misguided way. </p><p>Tim seemed relieved by this news, then guilty for feeling relieved, and then relieved that his job hadn't completely destroyed his moral compass. Jon seemed… Well, Jon acted in a way that makes Martin almost certain that he knows what Zoey said in the hallway. Martin knows that that's impossible. Sasha would've seen him if he was listening in from the doorway, but still, Jon knew. Martin saw it in his eyes when Zoey's mom came in crying, asking where her baby is, a week after Zoey's disappearance. Saw it in how Jon finally let Mrs. Phillips make a statement, clearly hoping it'd get her to leave him alone after. Saw how Jon didn't even turn on the tape recorder, telling the mother at the end of her statement that maybe if her daughter behaved herself a little more, she'd still be here.</p><p>No one comforted the woman as she asked what that meant, what had they done to her daughter. Though, Sasha did glare daggers at Jon, disgusted.</p><p>"So Jon demeans and belittles you and that's a misunderstanding, a mistake that is fixed by a half-assed apology-" Sasha ranted later that night, after inviting Martin to stay at her place until Tim and he patched things up. "But when a woman, a teenager, makes a shallow, rude comment, which- yeah, don't get me wrong, that sucks. And she sucks for saying it. But still, a young girl does an iota of what Jon had been doing to you for years and suddenly she's a bitch who deserves whatever it was that happened to her. Which, by the way, we still don't know what Elias did to her! How is it that men get infinite chances while women only get one chance if they learn to shut up and know their place."</p><p>"Men are disgusting. I don't know how you can stand to be around us." Martin replied, taking a swig from the barely alcoholic beverage he'd been nursing all night.</p><p>"I mean… What other choice do I have, Martin?" Sasha replied, looking dispassionately out her window. "I won't change who I am to please an inherently misogynistic society. I am who I am, and no creepy ancient library can take that away from me." Sasha proclaimed, raising her glass.</p><p>That was the night before Jane Prentiss attacked the Institute. That night was the last time he'd see Sasha outside of work- fully herself, not filtered through the professionalism of the Institute. And, although he wouldn't know it until much later, that was the last time he'd hear Sasha laugh.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Martin Blackwood and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>had to break up the chapter i had planned into two</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Right. There we go. Martin, what do you see?” Jon asked after several moments of fumbling to turn the tape recorder back on after Sasha’s hasty exit.</p><p>“Hm? What?” Martin responded, a faraway look in his eyes as if he was snapping out of a hypnotist’s control.</p><p>“I can’t really stand up yet. I need you to describe what’s going on… For the record.” Jon added.</p><p>“Ah, yeah. Sure. So, um, Sasha tackled Tim and there was kind of a struggle, but she made it out of the Archives. That, that was about two minutes ago and she’s gone to get help. P-Probably. I mean, she, she couldn’t… she wouldn’t just run so…” Martin said, trailing off shakily.</p><p>“Did it look like any of the worms… got her before she left?” Jon questioned hesitantly.</p><p>“No. I don’t think so.” Martin answered. “Tim neither, I think. It was hard to tell after she tackled him. There was just a lot of movement and, and shouting and, and wriggling…”</p><p>“Stay with it, Martin,” Jon said firmly. “Tim. What happened to Tim?”</p><p>“They got split up and he ran into the office. You said that’s where you made the hole. When you were recording. And they all came through, so… he’s dead. He’s dead in there and he’s covered in worms and that’s it.” Martin ranted, voice getting higher and louder the longer he spoke.</p><p>“We don’t know that.” Jon reasoned.</p><p>“Jon, he could be dead for all we know and the last conversation I had with him, I-” Martin paused, guiltily. </p><p>“You, what?” Jon prompted.</p><p>“We got into an argument. I’m surprised you didn’t hear it from your office with how loud we were being.” Martin said with a bitter chuckle.</p><p>“Some of us actually do the work we’re being paid to do.” Jon snapped, adding “Sorry, force of habit. Go on.”</p><p>“Listen, I love Tim, but… he’s a flirt. I’ve known since day one and I’m not asking him to change for me. Plus, it’s not like he flirts with filing clerks just because. He’s doing it for the good of the Institute.” Martin said.</p><p>“To be fair, I’ve begged him not to,” Jon remarked.</p><p>“Even so, he was being hypocritical! He doesn’t let me bring other men tea but he can engage in full-on foreplay with strangers?” Martin scoffed, carefully leaving out the fact that Tim was perfectly fine with him bringing other men tea… so long as that man wasn’t Jon.</p><p>“Is that why you’ve stopped bringing me tea?” Jon wondered. “Martin that sounds… and I’m not saying this purely because I want you to start bringing me tea again… but that sounds possessive.”</p><p>“I appreciate the concern, Jon. But I’d soon tongue-kiss Elias then take relationship advice from you.” Martin joked.</p><p>“Hey, I can be romantic!” Jon countered, his arms crossed like an angry school teacher.</p><p>“Oh, yeah? Prove it.” Martin said, feeling a wave of bravery wash over him as his eyes locked onto Jon’s, heavy with something Martin wouldn’t allow himself to recognize as lust.</p><p>“Watch your mouth when you’re speaking to your superior, Martin,” Jon whispered, slowly approaching Martin like a predator to its prey. “I’m your boss, after all. Don’t make me punish you.”</p><p>Martin whimpered at the last part, leaning into Jon’s touch as he stroked Martin’s curls, pulling the locks harshly towards him. Jon licked his lips, leaning in when it happened- the loud banging noise began from the other side of the wall. Jon and Martin jumped, whatever heady desire that blinded them moments before passing as the reality of their situation came crashing down on the two of them.</p><p>“Fuck.” Jon elocuted, still making intense eye contact with a flustered Martin.</p><p>“Shit. God, I can’t believe I almost… While Tim is fighting for his life out there, I’m hiding in some stupid safe room spreading my legs from our asshole boss. No offense.” Martin added, adjusting himself in his trousers as Jon watched, pretending to do the same while he discreetly palmed himself to take the edge off. </p><p>“None taken. And look,” Jon began, filter gone (along with his shame). “We’re about five minutes tops from Jane Prentiss breaking down that wall and killing us… So, all things considered, maybe spreading your legs for your asshole boss isn’t the worst way to go.”</p><p>Martin stared at Jon in disbelief as the banging got louder. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this… but I’m not going to have Elias fucking Bouchard find my corpse filled with worms and Jonathan Sims’ semen.” Martin retorted, delighting in Jon’s embarrassment at the word ‘semen’ before he slowly collected his bearings and genuinely adjusted himself, taking a moment to calm down.</p><p>“I apologize, Martin. I don’t know what came over me just then. That was extremely inappropriate of me and if we survive this I promise I will-” Jon was interrupted by the wall giving in, collapsing into itself and creating a Tim-sized hole in the wall.</p><p>“Hi, guys.” Tim greeted, giddily.</p><p>“Tim!” Martin exclaimed.</p><p>“Tim?! What the hell? I thought… how did you…?” Jon asked, confused.</p><p>“You made it!” Martin said, running to embrace him.</p><p>“Funny story really. I ran into the office, worms everywhere, horrible death and everything tripped and fell in some boxes and there were like 20 cans of gas in there.” Tim rambled, still tightly holding onto Martin in a manner that made Jon unusually furious.</p><p>“Are, are you alright?” Martin asked, looking up at Tim without removing himself from Tim’s grasp. “You seem a bit…”</p><p>“Fine! Fine!” Tim interrupted. “Gas… bit light-headed. Not a lot of ventilation in the tunnels. Come on!”</p><p>“In- Into the tunnels?” Jon asked.</p><p>“Yeah! Actually, not that many worms in there anymore. I think they’ve mostly gone into the Archive. Although the ones down here are faster for some reason. And quieter.” Tim responded, softly petting Martin’s curls.</p><p>“You’re not bitten, are you?” Jon spat.</p><p>“No, I don’t think so! Have a look!” Tim said, wriggling out of Martin’s grip before pulling down his trousers.</p><p>“Yes, alright Tim, you look fine. Put them back on, please.” Jon pleaded, averting his gaze from Tim’s Kermit the Frog boxers.</p><p>“I’m so happy you’re not dead, Tim,” Martin said, grabbing the front of Tim’s shirt and pulling him into a passionate kiss. Jon wondered if Tim hadn’t interrupted, whether he’d be in Tim’s position.</p><p>Tim reciprocated happily, backing Martin into the nearest wall and pressing his body flush against Martin’s with a satisfied groan. Jon let out a louder-than-necessary cough that caused Martin to slowly de-escalate the kiss, giving Tim one lingering press of the lips then ducking out from under Tim’s embrace, yelping when Tim gave a firm slap to Martin’s behind.</p><p>“Yes, well, now that you’re all done catching up… Martin, could you pass me the tape recorder?” Jon asked, still avoiding eye contact.</p><p> </p><p>“Martin! Martin” Tim called, voice echoing throughout the tunnels.</p><p>“Would you stop that! All you’re doing is attracting worms.” Jon said in that dismissive tone that irked Tim more than usual today.</p><p>“Oh, I’m sorry, boss. Is my concern for my boyfriend possibly being turned into worm food distracting you from telling ghost stories into that ancient tape recorder? My apologies.” Tim retorted.</p><p>“You’re not the only one who cares about Martin, you know! I’m worried as well, but we’ve got to focus on-” Jon began, oblivious to Tim’s growing anger.</p><p>“You not wanting an employee to die a painful death is not the same as me praying my partner doesn’t get eaten alive by some bug queen.” Tim spat, picking up pace unknowingly, causing Jon to have to speed walk to keep up. “Do you really care for Martin? Do you proofread every single report he writes before he hands it into his douchebag boss, even if you have so much else you need to do that day? Do you watch him in the tea aisle, taking thirty minutes to decide which kind he wants, only for him to choose the same tea as always, and blush once he realizes it? Do you calm him down every Sunday when he comes home from Devon, refusing to speak and constantly one loud noise away from a breakdown?”</p><p>“What’s in Devon that makes him-?” Jon interrupted.</p><p>“Why don’t you ask him yourself? That is, if we survive.” Tim added, stopping at the trap door and taking a deep breath before pushing it open.</p><p> </p><p>It had been an hour. A whole fucking hour and Martin was still unaccounted for. Tim did everything he could think of to get his mind off of what could be happening to Martin. Just as his resolve began to break, the trap door swung open, revealing a disheveled and hysteric Martin.</p><p>“God, I’m gonna be sick. I saw it, Tim. I saw her!” Martin babbled, allowing himself to be cradled by Tim.</p><p>“What? What’d you see?” Tim asked, glaring at the paramedics telling him to let go of Martin so they can check him for worms.</p><p>“Gertrude. I saw Gertrude Robinson’s corpse.” Martin said, looking equally as likely to throw up as he is to weep.</p><p>“Well… Shit.” Tim responded, gently shepherding Martin to where the paramedics motioned after they finally relented and let Tim accompany his traumatized boyfriend into the make-shift clinic they’d set up nearby.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure you’re up for a statement, Martin?” Tim asked, concerned.</p><p>“For the last time, Tim. Yes, I’m quite well enough for a statement.” Martin said, exasperated at Tim’s doting. “No more than ten minutes, okay? Then we can go home.”</p><p>“We? You mean, you’re coming back to my flat?” Tim probed, hopefully.</p><p>“Tim, it was one stupid row. I was always planning on coming back.” Martin explained. “I just needed some space… Now go get the car started, I’ll be right out.”</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. This is legit just porn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Guys please read the updated tags- this isn't at all kinky imo but I know to some it might be a bit out of your comfort zone so if porn ain't your thing... feel free to skip as this has no bearing to the plot other than a few paragraphs leading up to sex</p>
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    <p>Given everything that had happened, Tim decided to hold off on bringing up any relationship talk. So he waited for a little over a week before he broached the topic at dinner.</p><p>“So… I know we haven’t had much time to talk lately. About us, I mean. With Zoey being- um, no longer an issue, I’d say we’re about even. That being said, I like your company. I’d like to continue living together and I really enjoy the- ahem, intimate aspect of our arrangement. If you want out, I completely understand. But I figured I’d be transparent anyway.”</p><p>“So, to summarize, you want to be friends with benefits?” Martin asked.</p><p>“Well, sure, way to reduce the speech I’ve been preparing all week to one sentence,” Tim mumbled.</p><p>“I feel the same way, Tim. But, what will we tell the others? Hey, just kidding about the dating thing but we still live together and have sex so…” Martin said, brows furrowed in thought.</p><p>“Honestly, I don’t think we need to tell them anything. It’s not like there’s any perceptible change in our relationship- we’re still exclusive until one of us decides to pursue another partner, at which point we’ll stop boning.” Tim stated with a shrug.</p><p>“That reminds me… For the sake of honesty, Jon and I almost kissed last week.” Martin hurriedly confessed.</p><p>“What?” Tim exclaimed. Though, when Martin dared to look, he saw Tim was grinning excitingly. “Give me every detail, Blackwood.”</p><p>“You’re not upset?” Martin asked, tension slowly leaving his shoulders.</p><p>“Not really, no. I’ve been waiting for this for years, Martin!” Tim said as he moved to sit directly at Martin’s side. “Now, give me the juicy deets.”</p><p>“Okay, so Sasha had just run off and we were alone in the safe room. Somehow we ended up talking about romance and I joked about Jon not seeming like a very romantic person and he kinda playfully argued and I was like prove it. Then, I shit you not, he starts leaning in- yeah, exactly like that, Tim! He leans in and starts basically dirty talking about obeying your boss or I’ll punish you and I’m thinking that I must’ve fallen asleep because no way is this real life. Then he tugs my hair and- ah! Yeah, like that. God.” Martin cuts off as Tim reenacts the scene with him.</p><p>“What’s he do next, Martin?” Tim whispered, face inches from Martin’s.</p><p>“He-he's about to kiss me when the banging starts and I tell him we can’t. Then he’s literally palming himself as he tries to convince me otherwise.” Martin finished, watching as Tim starts touching himself through his trousers.</p><p>“Colour?” Tim asks, signaling he wants to start a scene and is checking in prior to any action. </p><p>“Green. Same rules as usual.” Martin supplied, whimpering when he felt Tim’s hand snake up his thigh as he gave a surprisingly chaste kiss to Martin’s pliant mouth.</p><p>"Do you want me to make you feel good, sweetheart?" Tim asked, lightly cupping Martin's cock through his jeans, chuckling when Martin frantically nods. "Okay, love, then I need you to behave for me, alright?"</p><p>"Yes, anything. I can be good." Martin said, fighting the urge to rock his hips into Tim's faint touch.</p><p>"I know you can. You're so amazing and beautiful and intelligent, Martin. Can you come with me to the bedroom, sweetheart?" Tim asked, kissing the length of Martin's neck.</p><p>"Mhm," Martin responded, trying to ignore his aching arousal as he headed to the bedroom. </p><p>Once Martin made contact with the bed, he was greeted by Tim's familiar weight as he pinned Martin to the bed with his body. Martin loved making out with Tim. It was very much like joking with Tim- loving and comfortable, except puns don't give Martin a hard-on, while the way Tim uses his tongue certainly does.</p><p>"How do you want me?" Martin panted, hips still bucking up into Tim's, unable to stop chasing his own pleasure. </p><p>"Let's see…" Tim pondered, making a show out of looking Martin over, eyes stopping at Martin's jeans. "Can I take this off, love?"</p><p>"Yes, sir," Martin answered, blushing when he realized what he'd accidentally called Tim. </p><p>"Ooh, sir! That's a new one!" Tim said gleefully. "Is that it? I'm your superior and with how much you're distracting me… I need you to start picking up the slack." </p><p>"Of course, whatever you say," Martin responded, a small noise escaping his throat as Tim slowly ran his hands up and down Martin's inner thighs.</p><p>"Look at what you've done to me, Martin," Tim growled, dragging Martin toward Tim's clothed groin so he could feel the harsh denim tent in Tim's jeans. "I bet this was your plan all along, huh, Martin? Strutting around the office with those plush lips and flaunting that ass of yours to try and dare me to take what's mine."</p><p>"Fuck, yes. Take me, Mister Stoker. Need it. Need you." Martin whined, encouraged by Tim's undressing, so he can better rut against Martin's thigh.</p><p>"On your stomach," Tim ordered, reaching for the lube and a condom. (He and Martin are both pretty certain they're clean, but decided to go to the clinic and get tested anyway… just to be safe.)</p><p>Once Martin rolled over, he felt Tim hoist his legs up on the bed and spread them. Martin fought back his discomfort at being so exposed as he felt a soothing hand stroke his thigh.</p><p>"Are you ready to take a finger?" Tim asked, thumbing Martin's perineum with slow concentric circles.</p><p>"Yes, please." Martin squeaked out, trying not to jump as the feeling of being penetrated. He'd only ever done this once before, but the bloke only fingered him for a bit when Martin asked the man to stop, saying it hurt too much and didn't feel good. Needless to say, the stranger did not take the news well and Martin was glad he'd gone with his gut as the guy definitely wouldn't've stopped once he was inside Martin.</p><p>"-artin. You with me, buddy?" Tim called, finger no longer in Martin.</p><p>Huh? Yeah, sorry. It's just the last guy I… he was a prick. And I guess my mind wandered to him unconsciously." Martin confessed, embarrassed. </p><p>"Turn to face me, please?" Tim said, giving a warm smile when Martin did. "Perfect. If you're still up for it, how about we do it where you can see my face."</p><p>"That's- that sounds great, Tim. Thanks. You can keep going. I really want to tonight." Martin responded, softly with a grateful look in his eyes. </p><p>"Sure thing, Martin," Tim said, finger re-entering Martin slowly as Tim began to jerk off Martin to loosen him up. "God, you really want it, don't you?"</p><p>"More. Please, Tim, I'm ready." Martin moaned, spreading his thighs wider as Tim lovingly fucked him with two fingers, searching for the position that would drive Martin wild. "God, yes, fuck me."</p><p>"One more, Martin? You think you can take another?" Tim asked, right as he curled his fingers in a way that made Martin yelp and arch his back prettily.</p><p>"Right there, Tim! God, I've never… fuck. I mean I knew I had a prostate and that it feels good when you… but I've never really- Yes, there, fuck!" Martin babbled, pulling Tim into an appreciative kiss.</p><p>"Hold on. You've never hit your prostate before? Not even with a dildo?" Tim questioned, all three fingers pressing into Martin perfectly.</p><p>"Well, I've just never really had the time or money as of late to- god, Tim please fuck me," Martin begged, reaching for the condom and ripping it open to roll onto Tim's cock.</p><p>"Sorry, what was that? Your old man's a little hard of hearing." Tim joked, laughing when Martin made a disgusted face.</p><p>"Gross, Tim! You are not roleplaying as my dad."Martin said firmly.</p><p>"Why not, don't want him to get jealous?" Tim teased, waggling his eyebrows.</p><p>"Considering I haven't seen the man in twenty-some years, I doubt he'd care about whose cock is in me," Martin stated flatly.</p><p>"Oh shit, I didn't… Ah!" Tim cut off when he felt Martin take hold of his dick and guide it towards his asshole.</p><p>“I only accept apologies in the forms of orgasms,” Martin said, breath hitching when he felt the wet tip of Tim’s cock pressing into him, whining when Tim stilled after just barely sinking in him.</p><p>“I know, baby, but I need a moment.” Tim shushed, taking deep breaths as he kissed Martin’s nipples as a consolation prize. “If I move any more than I am now, this will be over very quickly.”</p><p>Martin chuckled, drawing a noise from Tim as the movement jostled him. Then, after a moment, Tim hoisted Martin’s thighs up so he was at a better angle, and gradually sunk into the gripping wet heat of Martin’s body.</p><p>“Fucking shit, Martin. You are so fucking tight.” Tim groaned teeth gritted as he watched himself disappear into Martin, making space for himself where there is seemingly none.</p><p>“Thanks. I think you’re pretty cool too.” Martin said, face deadpan before breaking into infectious laughter.</p><p>“Are you kidding me, Martin? As I’m in the middle of taking your virginity you say the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever heard in my life?” Tim complained, now fully inside Martin, whose laughter is slowly dying down.</p><p>“Try telling that joke at the water cooler, Tim.” Martin taunts, legs wrapping around Tim’s waist as Tim gives a shallow thrust.</p><p>“You act as if that’s at all out-of-character for me,” Tim remarked, cursing as his hips picked up pace incrementally, adjusting his position in a way that caused Martin to squeal and dig his nails into Tim’s sweaty back.</p><p>“Tim! Harder, god, give it to me!” Martin moaned, head thrown back to expose his throat. </p><p>“Now, that’s no way to ask for what we want, is it?” Tim teased, hips slowly as he harshly nipped Martin’s neck. “Try again.”</p><p>“Sorry, I’m sorry, please… harder,” Martin murmured, rocking his hips against Tim, who reacts by pinning Martin’s hips to the bed roughly. “Tiiiiiiim, let go! Let me-”</p><p>“Nope. I think you’re forgetting that you’re here for my pleasure, Martin. Not your own.” Tim drawled, leaning in so his lips barely brush Martin’s ear. “Colour?”</p><p>“Green. I’ll fucking tell you when my colour changes, keep going.” Martin said, frustrated. </p><p>Tim let out a small laugh before slipping back into character, “Stop misbehaving and maybe I’ll let you come, understand? Good. Now, enough with that filthy mouth of yours… Or would you rather me find another use for those lips of yours?”</p><p>“Whichever you’d like, sir,” Martin muttered, eyes widening with a look of faux innocence that Tim finds as arousing as he does amusing. "But what you're doing now feels… good. I like making you come."</p><p>"You just can't help being a tease, can you?" Tim mocked, running his fingers through Martin's bouncing curls as he fucked in and out of Martin faster than before. </p><p>"No, can't help it- need to be used. I'm your- I'm your little fucktoy." Martin said, blushing furiously at the term, embarrassed, despite having discussed at length what words they were both okay with being used in bed. Tim's pace stuttered at Martin's dirty talk, removing his hand from Martin's hair to pinch and tease his nipples.</p><p>"Fuck, you look so pretty like this. My cock stuffed in you while you let me grope at you." Tim hissed, his grip on Martin's hip turning brutal as he shifts more of his weight onto Martin's body. "You gonna let me come in you, love? Gonna let me finish in your slutty hole?"</p><p>Martin gave a high pitched noise in response, eyes looking imploringly at Tim before pleading, "I've been good, haven't I? Good boys get to come, right? That means you'll touch me, right?"</p><p>"Be specific, love. Where would you like me to touch you?" Tim asked, gruffly as he continued to thrust into Martin enthusiastically. </p><p>"My cock. Please touch my cock, sir." Martin begged, gasping in surprise when Tim suddenly turned rougher with his thrusts before gripping Martin's cock and giving a flick of the wrist every other thrust. </p><p>"Fuck, fuck, please tell me you're close, darling!" Tim said, breathing becoming ragged the closer he came to orgasming.</p><p>"Almost, just… um, degrade me a bit more?" Martin suggested, nails digging into Tim's flesh.</p><p>"God, maybe I shouldn't even pull out. Maybe I ought to take you with me everywhere I go and use you as my cockwarmer all day. Imagine the look on our coworker's faces when they see what a whore you really are. I might even pass you around… let Jon have a go at the office slut." Tim rambled, worried he crossed a line when Martin went still, only to see his eyes slip shut as he comes. Tim groaned at the feeling of Martin clenching down around his cock and came soon after, pulling out with a deep sigh as they both struggled to catch their breath.</p><p>"You alright?" Martin asked, after regaining his ability to speak.</p><p>"Yeah, just having that post-orgasm guilt as I remember all the embarrassing shit I said while horny." Tim joked as he got up to shower.</p><p>"Oi, I didn't know you were raised catholic as well," Martin said, following Tim, who snorted in response, to the restroom.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The One Where The Reader Should Check The TWs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tw:<br/>Canon typical stalking <br/>mention of past sexual assault<br/>victim blaming<br/>implied/referenced abuse (aka, martin's mother)<br/>forced compulsion <br/>mention of dissociating and vigorous cleaning after episode relating to past assault</p>
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    <p>To say Martin was born a caretaker would be wildly inaccurate. He was born with red hair. He was born with freckles. He was not born with the nagging voice in his head that told him he was only worth what he could do for others.</p><p>But with Jon, it seemed the more Martin tried to help, the angrier and more suspicious Jon got. Martin knew that with the revelation that Gertrude was murdered would come paranoia… It wasn’t until Jon called him into his office to discuss the Trevor statement that Martin realized how bad things really were. Martin was ready to come clean, was ready to fully confess the truth about his CV when Tim barged in.</p><p>“Martin. Outside. Now.” Tim said, face expressionless.</p><p>“Hold on, Tim. You can’t just storm into my office in the middle of a very important-” Jon was cut short by Tim’s imposing figure approaching his desk to loom over Jon.</p><p>“You’re interrogating him, Jon. Accusations don’t make for a productive work environment.” Tim deadpanned.</p><p>“If he’s got nothing to hide then why can’t I ask a few simple questions?” Jon countered.</p><p>“Show me some evidence and I’ll be glad to let you question any one of us… Oh, that’s right! You don’t have any. You just want to act out your weird power play fetish on the one person who’s nice enough to not fight back. Now if you’ll excuse me, Martin and I will be taking our lunch break.” Tim finished, exiting with Martin in tow.</p><p>And as much as Martin appreciated Tim standing up for him, the look in Jon’s eyes as Martin left the room told him one thing. If Tim’s interference was meant to in any way stop Jon from believing Martin was Gertrude’s killer, it did not work. On the contrary, Martin was certain that whatever suspicions Jon had about him had only doubled and that… that scared him.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Tim, we’ve talked about this! You’ve got to let me fight my own battles at work.” Martin admonished, stirring his chocolate shake with a straw.</p><p>“If by fight your own battles you mean let Jon accuse you of murder then I heartily disagree, love,” Tim said, gesticulating wildly with a soggy french fry as he continued. “I know you like being talked down to but with how often Jon demeans you, I'm feeling a little cheated.” </p><p>“Don’t do that. Don’t use what we do in bed against me.” Martin responded, lips pursed.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Martin. I just hate seeing him take advantage of you.” Tim explained, reaching out to hold Martin’s hand comfortingly. “You’re one of my best friends and as much as I wish you’d stop giving so much more than you’re getting out of your interactions with Jon, I trust you to decide for yourself who is and isn’t worth your time.”</p><p>“I’m such a fucking idiot. I’ve got a hot friend with a great sense of humour who’s sexually attracted to me, genuinely cares about my well-being, and is emotionally vulnerable when communicating with me… and I fall in love with a paranoid ninety-pound rotisserie chicken in a suit who accuses me of murder appro of nothing.”</p><p>“To be fair, even if you did fall in love with the amazing man I am, it’s not like I’m- like I do romance in the same way you do.” Tim pointed out in an attempt to console Martin.</p><p>“Still,” Martin argued, slumped over and defeated as he ate the last of his burger.</p><p> </p><p>When Martin came back from his lunch break he found a paper he’d written for Jon about a follow-up he’d done heavily edited in red pen with a sticky note that read ‘redo’. Despite Tim having assured him that his paper was fine as is, Martin couldn't help but feel like he was being punished for Tim's earlier transgressions.</p><p>On top of all his other work, Martin had to finish rewriting that damn report by the end of the day. It was 8pm when Martin told Tim he'd meet him at home and it was 8:30 when Tim finally gave in and went home, making Martin promise to text him when he got on and off the tube and call if he needed anything.</p><p>At 10pm, Martin finished his report, sliding it under Jon's door (something he often did when Jon worked late and didn't want to be disturbed). He texted Tim at 10:15 when he got on the tube and at 10:30 when he got off. He texted again a few minutes later, saying I think I'm being followed. 10:35, no response from Tim. 10:37, Martin ran up the stairs, shaking. 10:38, he could no longer see the man. 10:40, the door to Tim's flat was visible from the stairwell. 10:41, the dim hallway leading to Tim's never looked so appealing. 10:42, Martin is fishing for his keys when he's pushed against the wall. 10:43, Martin drops his keys. 10:43, Martin goes still, whispering 'please don't I can't-'. 10:44, the door to Tim's flat swings open, and light floods the hallway. Tim is soaking wet with only a towel around his waist, looking afraid. 10:44, Martin can see the man's face.</p><p>"Jon?" Martin croaked, still shaking.</p><p>"You have five seconds to get off of my boyfriend and get out of my sight before I call the fucking cops." Tim snarled, striding over to Jon and shoving him back.</p><p>"Tim, I was only going to talk to him about-" Jon began, palms facing outwards placatingly.</p><p>"NOW!" Tim yelled, focus shifting from Jon to Martin as the startled man scurried to pick up his keys and head inside.</p><p>"I need to take a shower," Martin explained softly, addressing no one in particular as he hurried to the comfort of Tim's flat.</p><p>That night marked the first time in a long time that Martin had a flashback. Tim found Martin sitting nude on the bathroom floor, still dripping from the shower, dissociating. Tim dried and helped dress him, not mentioning how clear it was that Martin had aggressively scrubbed his skin until the raw flesh was an angry red.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, four against one hardly seems fair." </p><p>"Jon. Enough. This is an intervention." Elias said, not seeming particularly thrilled to be having this conversation either.</p><p>"What?" Jon cried, looking more shocked than he had the right to be.</p><p>"Yeah, mate. You interrogate Martin at work, you make him stay late over some petty bullshit, then you stalk and harass him at his and my flat. I'd say a little talk is well past due." Tim responded, furious.</p><p>"I didn't- I wasn't going to hurt him! I was trying to question him about Gertrude's death without you around to interrupt. Maybe if you'd let me do it right the first time I wouldn't have had to-"</p><p>"What about you, Martin? Tell me why you were so viscerally upset following yesterday's event." Elias prompted, causing static to tickle the back of Martin's mind. </p><p>"I thought it was going to happen again." Martin blurted out against his will.</p><p>"Tell me what happened last time," Elias ordered, though Martin suspected, despite the impossibility of it, that Elias already knew.</p><p>"I was 18," Martin said, feeling the words tumble past his lips unnaturally smooth. "I was walking home from work and it was late. At the time, I didn't think much of it when I noticed a man had been walking a little ways behind me for the past couple of blocks- figured he was lost or drunk or something… but as I unlocked the front door of my mum's place, he- he grabbed me. Held my wrists down and pinned me to the side of the house. I remember the brick cut up my face something awful that night. All in all, the whole ordeal only lasted 10 minutes. 10 minutes I stood there, trapped, as he rubbed himself on my bottom until my mum came barreling through the door at him, wielding a frying pan. I was so grateful that as cruel as my mother was, even she wouldn't let this stranger attack me. That lasted only a moment before she yelled at me for bringing a partner back to my sick mother's house and how ashamed I should be. I tried to tell her that he forced me, that I was sorry, but she just laughed. Said I wasn't someone you had to force to do that kind of thing. When I saw it was Jon who had been following me, I couldn't help but think that mum was right- Jon wasn't going to have to force me, I'd let him hurt me anyway."</p><p>"What. The. Fuck." Tim said. "What the fuck did you do to Martin, Elias?"</p><p>"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." </p><p>"You made me give a statement," Martin whispered, looking horrified at Elias' pleased expression.</p><p>"My, my, Martin. You really are smarter than we give you credit for, aren't you?" Elias grinned.</p><p>"What the hell is going on here?" Jon asked Elias, wearily.</p><p>"Now, Jon. I'm afraid I'll have to put you on one week of paid leave while you go through sensitivity training. Hopefully, that will help with this whole harassing co-worker's business." Elias said, ignoring everyone's glares.</p><p>"We don't have sensitivity training," Sasha added, looking rather uninterested in the situation, despite Martin knowing Sasha was a survivor herself, and very mindful of office politics.</p><p>"Well, not exactly. I figured Martin could give the training, as he is by far the most sensitive person here." Elias remarked, shrugging off Martin's protests. "One hour a day, every day, Martin will help Jon respectfully navigate a professional environment."</p><p>"Pay me double per hour and I'll do it," Martin said, voice icy.</p><p>"I greatly appreciate it, Martin." Elias thanked before leaving.</p><p>"Slimy bastard." Tim spat, glaring at where Elias once stood.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The first day of Jon’s sensitivity training went about as horrible as Martin anticipated.</p><p>“Tim, if you’re going to insist on staying, then you’ve got to participate in the lessons as well,” Martin said, sternly.</p><p>“What? When have I ever said or done anything inappropriate at work?” Tim asked, indignant. </p><p>“Just last week you ‘accidentally’ grabbed my bum on eight separate occasions, you try to convince me to have sex in the office with you at least once a day, and you are constantly making suggestive remarks about our private life to our coworkers… Should I keep going?” </p><p>“Ugh, no.” Tim groaned, taking a seat in the archives conference room that Elias let Martin use for the training.</p><p>“Good. First, we’ll be talking about boundaries- something you both seem to struggle with.” Martin began, ushering Tim out of his seat. “Now, Tim, demonstrate an appropriate way of displaying affection at work.”</p><p>“Okay.” Tim shrugged, pulling Martin into a filthy kiss. Martin reciprocated without thinking, muscle memory making him push his body against Tim’s, whimpering softly before coming to his senses and shoving Tim back.</p><p>“Tim!” Martin cried, humiliated at the fact that Jon was probably disapproving internally at how easy Martin is. </p><p>“Very mature of you, Tim,” Jon said, with an unreadable tension in his speech.</p><p>“Aw, don’t get too jealous, Jon! I’m sure one of these days Martin will take pity on you and let you fuck him.” Tim cooed, voice cruel and vicious.</p><p>“See, this is exactly the kind of behavior I’m talking about, Tim! At home, you’re lovely. You respect me and treat me like I’m my own damn person. But, at work, you’re performatively sexual and possessive and treat me like a prop to use against your weird budding rivalry with Jon! I’m so fucking sick of the whiplash I get going from your best friend who you love to a just some piece of ass you own and growl at anyone who comes near. Until you can learn to treat me like a person in the workplace, we are strangers here. If you cannot interact with me appropriately here then do not do it at all. See you at home, Tim.” Martin said, turning to Jon next, who flinched at the talking to he was likely to get. “Jon, walk with me outside. We’ll be doing our lessons in public settings now since Mr. Stoker won’t be here to act as a buffer anymore.”</p><p>Jon scrambled to follow Martin, ignoring the glares Tim sent his way. Jon never truly realized how terrifying Martin could be when he needed to be. That cold, unreadable expression acting as a shield to protect Martin from the outside world until he was safe enough to break down. Jon knew that tactic, saw it in the mirror every morning. Maybe he and Martin are more alike than he thought.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Season three but Martin centric angst</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tim is angry, Martin is tired, and Jon is a fugitive. More at six.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The weeks that followed were unnervingly tense- Jon and Martin’s lessons were not doing much to ease Jon’s paranoia but were doing a rather spectacular job at improving Jon and Martin’s relationship. They mostly talked about their pasts (though both could tell the other was leaving out some of the more upsetting details) and hobbies and occasionally, Tim. Jon would awkwardly inquire about their relationship and Martin would give a vague answer and suggest Jon try talking to Tim himself, then the conversation moved on. As for Tim and Martin, they’d yet to talk about anything of importance. They rarely acknowledge each other at work (aside from when they leave the institute together, as Tim isn’t mad enough at Martin to make him walk home alone), and at home, they never talk about work. At home, they watch TV and cook dinner and have sex and pointedly pretend like there are no underlying issues in their relationship... like they’re not living together only because they’re scared to be alone.</p><p>Turns out, that safety in numbers does not apply when it comes to eldritch horrors. Tim and Martin stuck together, had each other’s backs, and still got trapped in The Spiral. According to Elias, they were gone for only a half-hour… Tim and Martin disagreed. Tim claimed it’d been a month and Martin claimed it’d been two weeks, but in the end, it didn’t matter. The argument was cut off by Jon’s supposed murder spree- making it the second time Martin met a monster in the tunnels then found an elderly person’s corpse. </p><p>When Tim and Martin did talk, it was mostly yelling. That was one upside to Jon being a fugitive, that it made it impossible for Tim and Martin to avoid communicating. Even if that communication had led to many complaints from neighbors.</p><p>“Unbelievable. Unbe-fucking-lievable. Of course, you’re defending him! Tell me, Martin- do you defend all the shitty people in your life or is that only reserved for those who verbally abuse you constantly?” Tim asked, words cutting through Martin’s last nerve.</p><p>“You think I don’t know how horrible he can be? Oh, poor Martin, who has no dad and seeks out emotionally distant and unattainable men with authority over him. Poor Martin, who doesn’t know when he’s being mistreated because mummy was so mean to him growing up. Poor, stupid Martin! Maybe poor, innocent Martin is aware that he is defending someone who hurt him. Maybe stupid, naive Martin is aware that if he cut out all the people in his life who hurt him, he’d have no one left!” Martin confessed, chest heaving from the rush of words he’d just spilled.</p><p>Whatever Tim was about to say next was swallowed by the sound of a hesitant knock on the door. Martin didn’t have to open the door to know it was the elderly woman from across the hall who, despite Martin’s constant assurances that everything was fine, was convinced that Tim was abusive. Tim was unaware of this old lady’s suspicions, as there’s really no way to tell a friend he’s barely on speaking terms with about neighborly gossip without sounding insane. </p><p>“Oh, good, your girlfriend’s here, Martin!” Tim teased, opening the door to a disapproving 70-year-old Jamaican woman whose late husband Martin assumed, had not been the gentlest man. </p><p>“Hello, ma’am, we’re sorry about the noise. Just a lover’s spat.” Martin lied, knowing she’d see straight through his lie.</p><p>“That’s one way of putting it,” Tim mumbled. “Anyhow, you’ll get some peace and quiet soon enough. I’ve got a plane ticket to Malaysia that leaves at 10 am tomorrow.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, what?” Martin shrieked, turning to Tim, briefly forgetting about their elderly guest. “When were you planning on telling me this?”</p><p>“I wasn’t, actually. Figured you’d take the hint once you saw my stuff was gone.” Tim said, observing his nails dispassionately. </p><p>“You need somewhere to stay, hun?” Came the voice of the woman Martin had forgotten was there.</p><p>“That’d be nice. Thank you.” Martin said, addressing the woman before coldly speaking to Tim. “I’ll get the rest of my stuff after you leave. Have fun in Malaysia, Tim.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Martin threw himself into researching the unknowing much like Jon would do in… well, anything, really. He had moved into a new flat near the institute and was getting readjusted to the familiar loneliness like a bad habit he’d failed to kick. </p><p>So when Jon returned to the institute, covered in new scars, and ready to confront Elias, Martin felt happy for the first time in weeks. Seeing Jon again was… exhilarating. Martin wanted to know everything: the origin of all his new scars, where he’d been, what else he’d learned… but there was no time. The world was ending and Martin seemed to be the only person (apart from Jon) who was doing anything to try and stop it.</p><p>“Want to get something to eat?” Jon asked, seeming to appear at Martin’s side out of thin air. “With me, I mean. I’ll pay… Not that I think you won’t be able to!”</p><p>“It’s okay, Jon. I know you didn’t mean it like that.” Martin reassured, startled into accepting the invitation if only to figure out the extent to which Jon has changed over his abrupt leave.</p><p>The cafe was small, a local establishment that, despite how close it was to both the Institute and Martin’s flat, he rarely visited. Coffee tended to make Martin sick and all the tea and pastries were too out of his budget, so Martin ordered a water and a blueberry muffin- Jon did say he was paying.</p><p>“So… how have you been these past few months?” Jon began, staring intently at his black coffee as if it were going to answer for Martin. </p><p>“I’ve been fine,” Martin replied, unsure how to explain the increasing tension with Tim and their encounter with the Spiral in a way that won’t cause Martin to break down crying.</p><p>“Good. That’s good.” Jon said awkwardly. “And Tim? How’s he been doing?”</p><p>“How would I- Oh! Oh, right, you don’t know yet.” Martin realized, turning over the right words in his head before speaking.</p><p>“Oh, god. Is Tim okay?” Jon asked, nails digging into his unburned palm.</p><p>“Yes? He’s been… angry lately. Seems to have gotten worse since you left, but he and I haven’t spoken in a while. I- uh, moved out of his place a couple weeks ago, the landlord was ecstatic. All the domestic dispute calls the police got about us started to mess with his profits, not to mention it was probably just plain irritating as well. After the first visit, when they realized we were with the Magnus Institute, they started sending Section 31 officers instead, must’ve thought we were having spooky rows or something. Anyway, I live about a block from the Institute now, I’m saving a ton transportation-wise.” Martin rambled, unused to the attention Jon was giving him after being so acclimated to solitude.</p><p>“Why were the police having to step in during your arguments?” Jon gently inquired, as if Martin was a small animal he was trying not to scare. “I know Tim’s been rather hot-headed lately but I couldn’t imagine him doing anything like that. Not that I think you’re lying!”</p><p>“Hold on, what’re you talking about, Jon?” Martin said, interrupting before Jon could spiral into his cycle of making his own assumptions and ignoring the other party completely.</p><p>“Tim. He was hurting you, correct?” Jon questioned in a hushed tone.</p><p>“What? Did you think he was-? No, god, he never hit me or anything. Sure he dealt out some nasty emotional wounds but so did I, I suppose. After our encounter with the Spiral, we were both in a really bad mental state- considering the issues in our relationship even before we got trapped in the corridors, it’s not all that surprising that things ended the way they did. Though, it is shocking that we made it as long as we did before finally calling it off- amazing what emotional repression can accomplish.” Martin remarked with an air of dry amusement that seemed to alarm Jon.</p><p>"So you were living with him for weeks while barely being able to stand one another? Why?" Jon asked, face showing no trace of judgment.</p><p>"Honestly? I think it was mostly not wanting to be alone." Martin answered truthfully, watching as Jon's expression turned to slight pity. "Okay, that came out sadder than I expected. What I meant was that we both wanted to keep having sex and it was more convenient if we both lived together. Then again, I don't expect you to understand given that you're… ya know?"</p><p>"That I'm what?" Jon said, eyebrows furrowed, and gaze sharpened.</p><p>"Um, that you don't have sex," Martin said, fidgeting uncomfortably. "Although, I've been meaning to ask… In the safe room during the Prentiss attack, you were, um, aroused, right? And you seemed to really want to, at least you said you wanted to, with me. But I've heard you apparently didn't with Georgie- not that that's a problem! I was just curious, is all. Sorry."</p><p>"Christ, Martin," Jon said after a long silence, removing his glasses to rub tiredly at his eyes. "Okay, let's start with the gossip thing- Georgie was wrong to divulge our sex life to my coworkers and I'm definitely going to talk to her about that. I have had sex before and I physically thought it was… fine, I guess? I didn't with Georgie, as at that point I had somewhat figured out my libido was low enough and uncommon enough that sex wasn't ever something I would seek out due both to a lack of connection and finding it easier to take care of it on my own. As for the safe room, I- I think my strong physical reaction was a mix of adrenaline, an emotional connection to you specifically, and a rare instance of sexual interest on my part. I'd also like to apologize once more for my behavior then- I am your boss and what I did was unquestionably sexual harassment, no matter the circumstances."</p><p>"Wow. That was quite a speech, Jon." Martin responded weakly, blush deepening as the words set in. "I'm also sorry, both for assuming something that personal about you and for making you explain yourself to me."</p><p>"You didn't make me do anything, Martin. If I didn't want to tell  you then I wouldn't have." Jon said, firm in his reply.</p><p>"Also, you don't have to apologize for the safe room thing. That actually lead to some pretty great sex between me and Tim. If it weren't for the Tim and Prentiss situation, I would've agreed embarrassingly fast." Martin joked, pausing when he saw Jon's jaw drop. "Too far?"</p><p>"No!" Jon said far too loudly, voice cracking noticeably. "Maybe we should discuss this somewhere privately." </p><p>"Sure." Martin agreed, forcing himself to not read too much into the implications of Jon's words. Jon said it himself, sexual attraction was uncommon for him. Martin shouldn't expect anything to happen, it'd be unfair to Jon to assume that one sexual reaction to him that happened a long time ago was indicative of future sexual reactions. "We could go to my flat if you'd like. We can go over any new information we may have gotten over the unknowing ritual and how to stop it."</p><p>Jon's face cycled through several expressions quickly- anticipation over Martin's invitation, then nervousness, then disappointment, and then a grimace at the mention of the upcoming ritual.</p><p>"You're right. We should exchange any relevant information about the ritual as soon as possible." Jon said, gesturing for Martin to lead the way.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. :(</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Not sure about this chapter so tell me what you think??? it's been a hell of a week.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Martin suggested it to Tim once the plan to disrupt the Unknowing’s ritual was finalized. The day before Tim, Jon, Basira, and Daisy were to leave for the wax museum, Tim and Martin were going to spend one normal day together- no arguing, no fear entities, and no heartfelt goodbyes. </p><p>Martin welcomed Tim into his new flat at 8 am, neither mentioned why Martin had a new flat or why Tim had never been invited before. Tim brought a box of doughnuts and Martin started on the tea- they ate in front of the TV and cuddled on the couch with a familiarity that pleasantly surprised Martin. </p><p>They went grocery shopping at noon, Tim playfully tried to sneak junk food into the cart like he always did and groaned good-naturedly when Martin asked him to put it back. Martin would usually buy something sweet for him and Tim anyway, typically as a way to persuade Tim to behave in public, as he loved to embarrass Martin by yelling across three aisles if they needed any condoms or sexual lubricant. Martin always giggled at the phrasing of that. Sexual lubricant. In case any passerby's were unsure of the sexual nature of lubricants when bought alongside condoms. </p><p>They made it back to Martin’s flat by 2 pm, each struggling to keep a solid grip on the absurd amount of groceries as they trudged up the five flights of stairs it took to reach Martin’s door. Martin quickly put up all the items that needed to be refrigerated and decided they would finish putting up the rest after a short nap.</p><p>Martin nearly cried at the comfort of being held by someone else in bed, it’d been so long since he’d felt touch of any kind- platonic or otherwise. Tim slowly kissed up Martin’s neck, asking in a whisper if it was okay, Martin nodded, afraid his wavering voice would betray him. Martin promised Tim he wouldn’t cry on their perfect day together, so he swallowed down the tears and turned to face Tim. The kisses were gentle, not anything like Martin thought they’d be. He thought the kisses would be frantic and desperate, the sex nothing more than skin on skin contact to ease the nerves of a man who knew he was on a fool’s errand. Martin was wrong. Tim kissed like he did before uncontrollable rage embedded itself into Tim’s very being. Tim kissed like he cared about Martin.</p><p>Tim undressed Martin like there was all the time in the world, peppering kisses on the newly exposed flesh before moving onto the next article of clothing. Tim was gentle as he prepared Martin, not that he wasn't gentle before, but this time every touch was softer, lighter than Martin was used to. Tim fingered Martin until he was whimpering for Tim to hurry up, asking time after time again if Martin was sure he was ready, in a purposefully innocent tone that indicated that Tim knew exactly what he was doing.</p><p>Tim didn't pause after he was fully inside Martin like he would in the past, once Tim had gone in all the way he began thrusting, his movements deep and slow and tantalizingly close to what Martin wanted.</p><p>Martin wanted to beg Tim to go faster or harder but knew that would ruin the domestic fantasy they'd spent all day crafting. Martin laid there and let Tim do as he pleased, moaning softly when Tim moved his hips a certain way or touched Martin's nipples unexpectedly. </p><p>Neither of them spoke during any of this, not until Tim broke the silence as he came. </p><p>"I love you," Tim said, sweaty and sticky as he pulled out of Martin.</p><p>He didn't say it any differently than he did before. It wasn't a confession or an apology or an excuse. It was a reassurance. A "you are still a friend that I care about". </p><p>Responding was like second nature to Martin. He still meant it. Of course, he meant it. But Martin wished he would've thought harder before he said it.</p><p>"I love you, too." </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Jon had made up his mind. He was going to confess his feelings for Martin before he left for tomorrow. </p><p>The walk up Martin's many flights of stairs gave Jon ample time to prepare what he wanted to say. Jon accounted for every possible outcome- except for this one.</p><p>Jon was getting ready to knock when he noticed the door wasn't closed properly. Martin had five separate locks he double-checked the moment he closed the door, for Martin to not even shut the front door fully, meant something was wrong.</p><p>Jon quietly entered the flat, scanning the inside for any sign of danger when he heard it. A soft groan. </p><p>Jon looked around for anything he could use as a weapon, deciding to simply grab the largest kitchen knife Martin owned and head towards the groans. As he approached the source of the noises, Jon realized several things all at once. The first being that he was walking towards Martin's bedroom. The second was that the noises seemed to come from two separate people who didn't seem to be in any danger at all. The third was that one voice began speaking… a voice Jon recognized.</p><p>"I love you."</p><p>Jon waited for Martin to let Tim down easy, to deflect, maybe even get angry at Tim for telling him this now after months of conflict. But Martin didn't.</p><p>"I love you, too."</p><p>The weight that settled on Jon's chest was painful in an unfamiliar way. Jon didn't even know there was any type of pain he hadn't felt yet. It was all-consuming and sharp, splitting Jon into two contrasting selves. One side angry and jealous- wanting to rip Tim off of the man he loved, wanting to keep Martin for himself. The other side bitter and dejected, seeing this fantasy he built of him and Martin together come crashing down in front of his very eyes.</p><p>That night, Jon dreamt of coming home to a grinning Martin making him dinner, asking how work was, and telling Jon about his day once Jon had finished talking. Martin was going back to school, maybe pursuing poetry professionally. Jon was proud. Jon was content. Jon was… </p><p>Jon was awake. </p><p> </p><p>Jon tried not to meet Martin's eyes as he placed his luggage in the trunk of the car they were taking. Martin gave an awkward side-hug to Basira and a stilted goodbye to Daisy before he walked over to Jon.</p><p>"Um, Jon? Be careful, okay? I mean, as careful as you can be given the circumstances."</p><p>"You too, Martin. Whatever it is that you're planning, just… don't get yourself killed." Jon finished lamely.</p><p>Martin pulled Jon into an impromptu embrace, burying his face into Jon's neck as he whispered, "Please come back. I need you to be okay, Jon."</p><p>Jon let the hug go on for significantly longer than was appropriate, leaning into Martin and taking in the sweet smell of Martin's shampoo in his soft curls and Martin's plush body pressed against his, hands not too far the curve of Martin's bum Jon gave up all pretense of not staring at.</p><p>Martin was blushing when they pulled away from one another, looking like he was about to say something when Tim exited the Institute with his bag slung over his shoulder. Martin's face did something complicated, switching through too many emotions for Jon to pick out any individual feelings, as he went up to Tim. Martin and Tim held each other tightly for a moment before kissing. The kiss seemed to last forever, neither wanting to leave the other's sight, but eventually, Tim did break the kiss, chuckling when Martin whined and chased after Tim's lips. Jon couldn't help but think that if he were ever allowed to kiss Martin like that, he'd give Martin as many kisses as he wanted. Jon imagined Martin pleading for more and Jon kissing the pout off of Martin's face, swallowing his whine as-</p><p>"Jon? They're getting ready to leave without you." Martin said, stood before Jon looking concerned.</p><p>"Right. Lot on my mind today. Take care of yourself, Martin."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The car ride was silent, for the most part. Up until an hour in when Jon finally worked up the courage to speak.</p><p>"Tim? I know you and I haven't really gotten on well recently, but I need you to promise me that… if I don't make it through this you'll be good to Martin. No matter how upset you may be at him or me or the world, I need you to treat him well." </p><p>The silence that followed was just long enough for Jon to wonder how badly he fucked up and if he should start preparing for the inevitable punch to the face when Tim responded.</p><p>"Funny, I was going to tell you the same thing."</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Awkward Car Ride To Scotland</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which these boys cannot have a heart-to-heart to save their lives</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For all that Martin fantasized about Jon waking up from his coma- when the time actually came, he mostly felt annoyed. Classic Jon to be nowhere to be seen when people needed him but always in the way when it was most inconvenient.</p><p>Jon behaved around Martin much like Martin used to- lovesick and eager and stupid. Not that Martin allowed Jon many opportunities to be near him, but nevertheless, Jon was unrelenting in his quest to ruin the plans that Martin had sacrificed so much for.</p><p>In any case, Martin was far too busy trying to pull off his scheme to think too hard about what the hell Jon was hoping to achieve by constantly bothering Martin. Although whether that was due to The Lonely or to the stress was anybody's guess.</p><p> </p><p>Martin never thought about what would happen after he outsmarted Peter. In fact, Martin never fully thought he could defeat Peter… at least, not in any way that mattered.</p><p>So Martin was left without any of the usual time-consuming distractions or excuses to not address the grief that followed him like a shadow, the silhouette of his sorrow stretched over hot pavement similar to how a corpse lays stretched over an embalming table. </p><p>Martin wanted to fall into a dreamless sleep and not have to deal with the familiar weight of trauma suffocating all attempts at happiness. Martin wanted a lot of things. What he didn't want was Jon to disrupt the hazy silence of the car.</p><p>"Truth or dare?" Jon asked without taking his eyes off the road.</p><p>"Not now, Jon," Martin said, tired in a way that seemed to only worry Jon more.</p><p>"You were fading, Martin. We've got to keep you talking so you don't slip back into the lonely." Jon explained, fingers digging harshly into the already battered steering wheel.</p><p>"Whatever. Truth." Martin said, obviously irritated but too exhausted to try and argue.</p><p>"Umm, favourite colour?" Jon asked, unsure.</p><p>"Really, Jon? That's the best you've got? The questions are supposed to be humiliating… like 'who did you lose your virginity to?' not first date stuff." Martin scoffed.</p><p>"Alright then, who did you lose your virginity to?" Jon retorted, close to apologizing after the long silence that followed.</p><p>"I mean… you kind of already know, don't you?" Martin answered, embarrassingly waiting for Jon to connect the dots. </p><p>"Oh..? Who- Oh!" Jon said, eyes widening in understanding. "It wasn't… you're talking about that asshole who followed you home, right?"</p><p>"What? No! God, no… he never got that far, thank god. I'm talking about Tim. Obviously." Martin replied, looking slightly less distant than before.</p><p>"Tim was your first? Really? I would've thought that you… not that I'm implying you're in any way, um… it's just you're so-" Jon rambled uncomfortably.</p><p>"Easy?" Martin joked, eyebrows raised.</p><p>"Attractive. I was going to say attractive." Jon finished, turning to face Martin just in time to see his jaw drop before immediately going blank.</p><p>"Technically I'd done some things before Tim, but he was the first- and only, I suppose- guy I'd done anal with," Martin said, enjoying the flustered expression Jon adopted as Martin nonchalantly spilled details of his sex life. "There was a man I blew when I was 19 in the men's room of a pub I worked at, then the guy's friend a week later who I also blew, and then I gave David a handjob when I first started working at the Institute… I feel like I'm forgetting someone. Right! There was this douchebag I went home with a couple days after I got the archival assistant job that I let finger me but he was… ugh. He was shitty about me changing my mind when it started hurting."</p><p>"That's… wow." Jon said, utterly shocked at Martin's openness. "Wait, you and David? Wasn't he like 50? Christ, I think his son was older than you, Martin!"</p><p>"To be fair, he did have a son relatively young. But yeah, not my finest moment." Martin admitted. "Truth or dare?" </p><p>“Um… truth.” </p><p>“Coward.” Martin teased. “Christ, I didn’t have a question planned. How about- who was your first crush?”</p><p>“Oh,” Jon said, looking surprised. “Well, I suppose my first proper crush would’ve been on you.”</p><p>“What? I don’t- I know for a fact you dated other people before, I can’t have been your first crush!” Martin shrieked, cheeks scarlet and movements frantic. “Wait. You- you had a crush on me? When?”</p><p>“That’s two questions. But, you are correct in that I did date other people far before I met you and though I did like them as people, I can’t say I ever considered having them as a romantic partner until they asked. I suppose you were the first person I thought about in a romantic sense, although I wouldn’t use a childish term like ‘crush’ to describe my very much adult feelings towards you.” Jon clarified, feeling slightly smug at the wondrous expression on Martin’s face. “Truth or dare, Martin.”</p><p>“Can we just ask the questions without the truth or dare? It’s not like there’s really any dares we can do from inside a moving car.” Martin pointed out.</p><p>“Fine. Were you the one that ruined that old statement from over a year ago?” Jon asked, observing Martin critically out of the corner of his eye.</p><p>“...Perhaps.” Martin said after a long pause.</p><p>“I knew it! I knew Tim was lying to me!” Jon exclaimed, causing Martin to jump slightly.</p><p>“That’s actually how Tim and I started dating, you know? I said I owed him for covering for me and then boom! Five months later I’m living with the man. But that’s Tim for you, right?” Martin joked, face turned away from Jon in a manner that suggests he’s likely hiding tears.</p><p>“For what it’s worth… I’m sorry about Tim. I knew you two were in love.” Jon said in a hushed, gentle tone.</p><p>“I don’t want to have this conversation right- wait, what? Who said we were in love?” Martin asked quizzically, wiping the tear streaks from his cheeks with the sleeve of his sweater.</p><p>“Oh! Um, no one. I just-” Jon began, eyes darting around wildly like a criminal in an interrogation. </p><p>“You are such a bad liar, Jon.”</p><p>“Promise you won’t get mad at me?” Jon begged, looking guiltily at an increasingly worried Martin.</p><p>“I can’t promise that if I don’t know what you did, Jon. I will say, though, I’ll be significantly more upset if you do not tell me.” Martin added, arms crossed protectively over his chest.</p><p>“Ok, well, basically… the evening before I was going to leave for Great Yarmouth, I decided to stop by your flat to confess my feelings towards you when I noticed your door wasn’t closed all the way and I got worried. So I went inside to see if you were in danger and I heard you and Tim in the bedroom when he said he loved you. And I heard you say it back.” Jon said, barely concealed hurt evident in his every word.</p><p>“Oh,” Martin said, looking conflicted at Jon’s admission. “Oh, Jon that wasn’t- Tim doesn’t… didn’t do romance. He never really went into specifics about whether he felt romantic attraction or if he simply chose not to act on those romantic inclinations, but either way, neither of us were in love with the other. Sure, we loved each other, but we were never in love.”</p><p>“Could’ve fooled me,” Jon grumbled, jaw tense.</p><p>“Wait. Wait wait wait… were you- oh my god that makes so much more sense now! You were jealous of Tim!” Martin said with a relieved laugh. </p><p>“Yes, my unrequited feelings for you are very hilarious, Martin. How very funny.” Jon remarked dryly.</p><p>“C’mon, Jon, cut it out. There’s no way you missed the fact that I’ve been in love with you all these years.” </p><p>“WHAT!” Jon yelled, causing the car to nearly swerve off the thankfully empty road as Martin shrieks in surprise.</p><p>“Jon, we have quite literally survived the most dangerous and terrifying monsters ever known… if we die because you crash this fucking car, I will resurrect you just so I can yell at you some more.” Martin said, nails digging into the weathered interior of the car.</p><p>“Sorry. Sorry, I guess having a vague suspicion about a crush years ago and being told outright is… a very different concept. So, just to be clear, you like me romantically? Even after everything I’ve said and done over the years?”</p><p>“I’m as confused as you are, Jon. But, to answer your question, yes. To the surprise of no one except you, I am and have been in love with you for nearly the entire time I’ve known of your existence. Happy, now?” Martin snapped. </p><p>"Ok, um- wow," Jon responded, shocked into dumbstruck silence.  "Oh! And I love you as well, Martin! Just in case you were… unaware."</p><p>"How long?"</p><p>"Well, that's a tad personal, but I suppose if we're going to pursue this relationship then it's somewhat of a fair question… I've never really measured it but I'd guess somewhere around 8 inches." Jon answered calmly.</p><p>"No, Jon, I meant how long have you been in love with me not how long is your… wow, 8 inches? That's- that's good to know." Martin replied, making no effort to hide his appreciative stares at Jon's lap.</p><p>"Quite," Jon said, squirming a bit in his seat at the intense gaze. "I suppose I didn't fully realize it myself until we met at the cafe almost a year ago, but I likely began having non-platonic feelings for you once you came back from Jane Prentiss' attack on your flat."</p><p>"Really? I was certain you hated me up until… well, a couple months ago honestly." Martin confessed. "God, you're like a little boy pulling on his crush's pigtails."</p><p>"Yeah… Sorry about that." Jon apologized, looking embarrassed. "I'm trying to be better."</p><p>"I know, Jon," Martin responded quietly. "I know."</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Scottish Safehouse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>finishing this was like pulling teeth, but i was determined to finish this! enjoy!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It took the better part of a week for Martin to fully come to terms with the idea of living with another person after such a long period of isolation. But once he did, Martin learned to love cooking for two and navigating the restroom while both he and Jon get ready in the morning.</p><p>Jon knew Martin loved to dote on him and while that had once annoyed him, now it only brought a glowing warmth to his chest. Jon tried to avoid mentally using the word housewife to describe Martin's current role in his life, but… if the shoe fits, right?</p><p>"Jon, where'd you put the good pan?" Martin called from the kitchen.</p><p>"I'm pretty sure I left it in the bottom left cabinet. Here, I'll help you look." Jon said, getting up from where he was reading at the dinner table to help Martin, who was currently bent over with his head completely in the bottom left cabinet as he searched for the pan.</p><p>Now, Jon never was one to ogle… quite the opposite, really. But, it's merely an undeniable fact that Martin had an amazing ass. So, Jon couldn't be blamed for how he stopped mid-stride to properly appreciate Martin's body in those worn out, soft pair of jeans that framed Martin's curves so nicely.</p><p>"Jon? Jon, are you there?" Martin asked, maneuvering his body so he could safely pull his head out of the cabinet without hitting the hardwood of the counter. </p><p>The wriggling was not meant to be sexy, Jon is well aware... but somehow that only made it sexier. Jon imagined running his hands up Martin's thick thighs and cupping the round curves of Martin's- wait, was Martin laughing? </p><p>"Sorry, love, what was that?" Jon responded,  no longer distracted now that Martin was sitting on the floor giggling like a schoolchild.</p><p>"Oh my god, you were checking out my bum!" Martin said in a teasing tone. "You absolute pervert!"</p><p>"I was- look, you were bent over all… ugh!" Jon rambled, covering his scarlet red face with his hands in an attempt to salvage what's left of his dignity. "That was gross of me, I'm sorry."</p><p>"Jon," Martin said in a lilting voice. "You're allowed to look at my ass, you know?"</p><p>Jon made a distressed noise in the back of his throat as Martin slowly got up off the floor with the pan in hand and continued to prepare dinner, dropping things more than usual and making a big show of bending over to pick it up.</p><p>"Ask nicely and I'll even let you touch it," Martin added once Jon had finally begun reading his book again.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The dinner was delicious. It always was, as Martin had been cooking for his mum for years and had perfected the craft of food preparation. They usually ate in comfortable silence with occasional small talk, but Jon was never one for useless prattle. </p><p>"Could I touch your bum, please?" Jon asked Martin as he took their plates and cutlery to the sink. Jon heard the sound of silverware clanging onto the tile.</p><p>"Come again?" Martin said, picking up the forks and spoons awkwardly.</p><p>"You said to ask nicely, so…" Jon explained, getting up to help Martin pick up the remaining silverware.</p><p>"Did you want- do you mean now?" Martin asked, flustered. </p><p>"If that's okay with you. Why, did you have something else planned?" Jon responded, absentmindedly reaching out to hold Martin's hand.</p><p>"No, I just- let me change into my pajamas first," Martin said, walking towards the bedroom they shared.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Jon didn't usually watch Martin change, but he was thinking of fixing that as he watched Martin pretend to ignore Jon while he stripped. It wasn't sexy. Just changing clothes as normal, but Jon loved him for it. </p><p>Jon had been quiet throughout the changing process until he saw Martin reaching for his pajama bottoms.</p><p>"You don't have to wear pajama bottoms. You can if you want to but I really wouldn't mind seeing you without them." Jon spoke up, having finished changing into his nighttime clothes as well. </p><p>"Oh! Alright then." Martin replied, putting the pajama bottoms back in his drawer before awkwardly approaching Jon, who sat comfortably on the center of the bed, motioning for Martin to join him.</p><p>"Can I kiss you as well?" Jon asked once Martin was kneeling on the bed in front of Jon, nervously playing with a thread on his shirt. </p><p>"I'd like that," Martin whispered, going completely still as Jon leaned in to give Martin a gentle, closed-mouth kiss. Martin froze in disbelief for a moment before kissing back a bit more excitingly than Jon had.</p><p>Jon placed one hand on the back of Martin's head and the other on his hip, pulling Martin closer to him unconsciously as the kissing became less chaste. </p><p>"I think I'm too heavy to sit on your lap, Jon." Martin joked, having noticed Jon was slowly but surely pulling Martin towards his lap.</p><p>"You are not too heavy to do anything with me," Jon said in a serious tone, pulling back to look Martin in the eyes. </p><p>"Untrue, but I appreciate the sentiment," Martin responded, climbing onto Jon's lap. </p><p>"I have never been wrong a day in my life. How dare you, sir." Jon said haughtily, running his hands up Martin's thighs then stopping just below the swell of his ass. "Can I?"</p><p>"Yes, please," Martin replied in a higher-pitched voice than usual, making an involuntary squeak when Jon suddenly gave a firm, two-handed squeeze to Martin's ass. </p><p>"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do that," Jon said breathlessly into Martin's neck.</p><p>“I think I’ve got a pretty good idea, actually.” Martin retorted, tilting his chin up to give a tender press of his lips to the corner of Jon’s mouth, grinning when Jon turned so he could give Martin a passionate kiss while he groped Martin’s backside.</p><p>“Is it okay if I-?” Jon began to ask, fingers brushing the waistline of Martin’s boxers. </p><p>“Um, yeah, sure. Let me just…” Martin said as he shakily crawled off Jon’s lap to better remove his shirt and boxers, looking for Jon’s reaction once he was fully nude, shifting awkwardly from one foot to another. “Did you want to stay clothed for this too or..?” </p><p>“Oh, right,” Jon replied, taking off his shirt unceremoniously, unaware of Martin’s reverential staring at his chest and torso as Jon was too preoccupied taking in every detail of Martin’s naked form. “Can you join me on the bed, Martin?”</p><p>“Yes, sir,” Martin responded absentmindedly before blushing furiously. “I’m sorry, it’s just a force of habit, sir- wait no, I meant Jon.”</p><p>“We can unpack that later, Martin,” Jon said after a moment of quiet amusement at Martin’s flushed complexion and embarrassed rambling. </p><p>“I’m really sorry, Jon. It’s something Tim and I did a lot.” Martin confided, slowly climbing back onto Jon’s lap, who harshly gripped Martin’s hips in response.</p><p>“Can we please not talk about ex-lovers in bed?” Jon requested through gritted teeth, breathing in sharply when Martin’s knuckles accidentally grazed Jon’s semi-interested dick through his clothes.</p><p>“Maybe you forgot, Jon, but I've been yours since the beginning… for the most part. I mean, Tim has had me countless times in various ways in the past year or so but I was still very much in love with you. Drew Tim mad towards the end, god, did he hate your fucking guts." Martin reminisced with a bittersweet smile. </p><p>"He was completely justified in doing so. I was an absolute prick to him when he needed me most." Jon recounted, sincerity slightly undercut by the fact that he was grinding upwards into Martin's hand while he spoke.</p><p>"Is it okay if I take these off?" Martin asked, pulling at Jon's pajama bottoms and briefs. </p><p>Jon nodded vigorously and helped Martin strip his bottom half, laughing when Martin blatantly stared in anticipation of Jon's cock.</p><p>“You know, I used to wonder if you only had a big dick personality-wise, but nope… eight inches physically and eight tons of spite socially.” Martin joked, twisting his body impressively so he could reach into his bedside drawer without getting out of bed, allowing Jon yet another opportunity to see Martin’s gorgeous ass. </p><p>Jon moved closer towards Martin so that his front was pressed up against Martin’s back, arm wrapped around Martin’s waist as he slowly rubbed circles up and down Martin’s hip, mouthing at Martin’s neck. Martin paused his search for whatever he was trying to retrieve from the drawer to lean into Jon’s touch with a soft moan before resuming his previous action, looking adorably humiliated at his moan from earlier. </p><p>When Martin finally pulls out what he’s looking for with a triumphant noise, Jon notices that it’s a half-empty (or half-full, depending on who you asked) bottle of lube in his hand.</p><p>“We don’t have to do anything but I thought it might help to have within reach since…” Jon peered at Martin curiously after hearing him go still and quiet mid-sentence. It took a moment of awkwardly trying to pinpoint the source of Martin’s uncomfortable demeanor before Jon realized what it was that seemed to upset Martin… Jon’s hands had been roaming Martin’s body this whole time with no complaints, that is until Jon had begun touching Martin’s stomach.</p><p>“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to make you- I get there are certain places you might not want me to touch right now… or ever!” Jon babbled, removing his hand from Martin’s torso and creating a small amount of space between their bodies to give Martin some breathing room.</p><p>“No, you’re fine! I’m just- I understand I’m not the smallest person and that it might not… I don’t want to gross you out with all of… me.” Martin responded hurriedly, throwing a thin white blanket over himself as he spoke before turning to face Jon. “I get it if you’re not- if you don’t want to anymore after seeing, um-”</p><p>“Martin. Forgive me if I’m wrong, but you’re talking about your size, yes?” Jon asked carefully, watching as Martin gave a slight nod, not meeting Jon’s eyes. “If me touching your stomach makes you insecure or upset then I won’t do it anymore, but if you’re worried that your stretch marks or rolls are something I’m disgusted by then you’re sorely mistaken. I am not exaggerating when I say that your naked body is a bloody treat. If I wasn’t such a jealous bastard, I’d ask you to give up clothes altogether. This isn’t me tolerating your body- I love your body because it’s yours and I’d love it regardless of how big or small it is now or will be in the future.”</p><p>“I… wow,” Martin said, tears sliding down his freckled cheeks. “I can’t say all of my body issues will disappear now just because you love me, but… it does help. I think for right now I’d like you to try and avoid focusing on any of my… flabbier areas, but if it doesn’t bother you then I guess you could do a cursory touch.”</p><p>“I can live with that,” Jon replied, ducking under the covers with Martin, reaching for Martin’s face as it laid smushed against a pillow adorably. “Hi. It’s Jonathan Sims. I was your boss but now I’m in love with you and I’d like to touch your body if you’d allow it.”</p><p>“Huh? Oh, is that you trying to tell a joke?”</p><p>“Yes, Martin.” Jon sighed, running his thumb over Martin’s lips before leaning over and kissing him. “I do occasionally engage in humour.”</p><p>“If you say so.” Martin teased, pressing himself against Jon as they kissed, neither fully aroused but both starving for touch.</p><p>“I do say so,” Jon said distractedly, hand running through Martin’s curls with a fascination that only Jon was capable of having about Martin’s hair.</p><p>“And I love you for it, Jon,” Martin responded dreamily as Jon rolled them over so he was on top of Martin, cover abandoned. </p><p>“Thank god.” Jon joked, kissing more sloppily up Martin’s neck. “Thank fucking god.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please leave comments! They help remind me to update when I get off work lol</p></blockquote></div></div>
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